The Pros and Cons of Being Unconscious
by DreamingALife
Summary: Or, wherein Merlin decides to switch things up a bit. A little OOC (well, sort of) and not to be taken seriously.


**A/N: I suspect that Arthur, arrogant prat though he may be, would not actually just lie around waiting for attention, especially if he thought someone else might be injured (and certainly not by the time he became king)…but I'm rather fond of Arthur as a self-centred brat. I'm also fond of Merlin finally catching a break. This is the result.**

 **Some context - Arthur, Merlin and the knights have gone out hunting for the day. It's basically just a day off for them, so Arthur and the knights are wandering about on horseback without any real purpose and Merlin is trailing after them on foot. Until…**

* * *

Arthur regained consciousness rather suddenly and then, just as suddenly, wished he hadn't.

His head _hurt_ **.**

 _ **A lot.**_

A sore head did, however, indicate that he was alive. This came as something of a relief to Arthur, whose last memory was of a large angry creature swiping a viciously spiked tail in his general direction with a great deal of malice (a rather disproportionate amount of malice, in Arthur's opinion, considering they had stumbled across the beast only seconds before).

Speaking of 'they'…where were the knights?

The king, who hadn't bothered to so much as flutter his eyelids or twitch a finger since he'd woken up, listened carefully for several moments in an attempt to determine the whereabouts of both the creature (hopefully dead) and the knights (hopefully not…although the fact that they weren't gathered around his prone form did not bode well).

Eventually the low hum of worried voices reached Arthur's ears and, as those worried voices were decidedly not by his side, he finally forced his eyes open ( _ow_ , bright light, why was it so _bright_?) and was somewhat surprised not to be greeted by Merlin's obnoxious grin. Merlin was always hanging over him when he woke up, usually with some moronic attempt at a quip already tumbling from his lips. No matter, the knights would be an improvement over that anyway. Or they would, if they were anywhere near him.

Arthur slowly tipped his head to the side (and _ohhh_ , that was a rock behind him…which explained the headache, but not the lack of holes in his chest from that damned tail…he decided to attribute that to his superb reflexes and the extraordinary good luck that seemed to follow him around) and spotted the knights, grouped together, peering at something on the floor and very much not paying attention to their fallen king.

Arthur groaned. And then he waited. Nothing happened…the knights stayed stubbornly on the far side of the clearing, huddled around something he could not see and murmuring anxiously.

It took three more groans and a tasteful amount of thrashing around in the leaves for Arthur to abandon the plan and instead prop himself up on his elbows (and oh dear _lord,_ his _head)_ and yell "Oi!"

That got their attention quite nicely.

* * *

It was quickly established, once Percival had hauled Arthur to his feet, that the reason Camelot's loyal knights had not been crowded around Camelot's noble king was because they had instead been crowded around Camelot's most ridiculous servant.

Merlin was unconscious.

 _Merlin._ Was _unconscious_.

Arthur had to concede that this was worrying – Merlin was never unconscious. No matter what the situation and what state Arthur and his knights ended up in, Merlin was always awake and present, hovering over them, treating wounds, regaling them with enthusiastic stories of how they had successfully defeated the latest threat to Camelot (which was useful, as they often couldn't remember) and otherwise just generally making a nuisance of himself.

Having Merlin lying still and quiet on the ground whilst everyone else was hale and healthy (just about) was simply wrong. The knights had tried in vain to rouse him using various methods (although Gwaine's idea of emptying a water skin over his head had apparently been shouted down) and Arthur himself tried a few gentle kicks (and he really was gentle, there was no need for Elyan to be giving him such a disapproving look) but they were eventually forced to conclude that their best option was to get Merlin back to Camelot – and, more importantly, Gaius – as quickly and carefully as they could.

Merlin was duly wrapped in spare cloaks and blankets and set, with as little jostling as possible, on Leon's horse. It is worth mentioning that their plan to leave as soon as possible was aided by the fact that the beast was already dead, although no one could for the life of them remember who had killed it.

* * *

It was a solemn procession that arrived back in Camelot and Arthur's heart went out to Guinevere and Gaius as they spotted Merlin, now on Arthur's own horse and just as unresponsive as he had been when they left that unfortunate clearing in the forest. It was a long time to go without even stirring and given Merlin's lack of visible injuries, Arthur did not blame Gaius in the least for snapping as he ordered Merlin to be taken to his chambers immediately.

King, queen and knights followed like a line of ducklings and then hovered as close to Gaius as they could whilst he shuffled around, poking and prodding at his patient and hemming and hawing to himself. Eventually, after several rather sharp looking jabs to Merlin's abdomen, Gaius let out one last sigh and turned to his expectant audience.

"You say you were all dazed or unconscious and discovered Merlin like this?"

"Yes." said Arthur, speaking for everyone.

"None of you saw the beast strike him?"

"No."

"And you then brought him back to Camelot on your horses with as much care as possible?"

"Yes, of course." said Arthur, rather indignantly. Gaius held up a hand as a gesture of peace and hummed thoughtfully.

"What did you do with all of the gear Merlin was carrying?" Arthur glanced around at the others, a little confused about the relevance of this line of questioning, but willing to assist Gaius in any way.

"We split it between us and carried it on each of our horses." Gauis nodded, seemingly making up his mind about something.

"If I am correct, there is no real harm done but there is one last test I need to perform. I must ask you all to wait outside for just a few moments."

Puzzled but hopeful, the group did as he asked and returned to find Merlin in the same position and his guardian looking considerably less worried but considerably more exasperated. He did, however, have good news.

"Merlin will be absolutely fine, sire. Rest assured, he'll be up and cleaning my leech tank in no time at all." (Arthur could have sworn Merlin's fingers twitched at the mention of the leech tank, but that was absurd – the manservant was still very much unconscious).

After a few more questions, the royals and knights left Merlin to Gaius' care and went their own separate ways. Arthur, who hadn't bothered to get his head injury looked at by Gaius – he had a remarkably thick skull and was disturbingly accustomed to blows on the head – retired to his chambers to be fussed over by Guinevere and fret (though he'd deny it to his dying day) over Merlin – surely it wasn't normal to be out cold for _that_ long?

* * *

Merlin, meanwhile, was comfortable and warm on the cot in Gaius' chambers and not the least bit concerned about Arthur's fretting. Despite the fact that he could practically feel Gaius' disapproval radiating from across the room, Merlin wriggled happily on the bed. He should fake being unconscious more often.


End file.
